Yellow Roses
by Entrovert
Summary: A sudden change of feeling occurs when Hermione recieves a bouquet of yellow roses from a close friend on her birthday 3rd year. HHR


Yellow Roses   


  
  
Uncle Vernon stepped inside the house proudly, smiling in sheer satisfaction as he slammed the door behind him. A little boy with hair sticking up in all directions leaned his body against the staircase to get a better view, remembering to obscure himself from his uncle.  
"Petunia!" A might roar came from his mouth. Footsteps resounded across the house as the back of a tall woman came into Harry's line of vision.  
"Yes Vernon? What is- oh!" She took something from his hands and Harry craned his neck as far as he could to see what it was.  
His aunt was holding a large bouquet of white, yellow, and red roses all arranged in a very proper manner by what seemed to be a respectable florist. Her face turned into a smile back at him as she pecked his cheek in a very Petunia-esque way. Harry watched with a sense of wonder as she strode into the kitchen for a few moments before remerging with a vase holding the flowers. Aunt Petunia placed the vase carefully into the center of the dining room table.  
"Dudley-kins! Look at what papa came home with!" She called upstairs as Harry quickly stood up and tiptoed down, out of sight.  
  
Years Later...  
  
She did not consider herself to be a romantic, although if given the chance, she wasn't so sure she would not jump at a bid for love.  
"Hermione? Have you answered my question?" A tall boy walking next to her glanced suspiciously at the expression on her face.  
"What? Oh yes, sorry Seamus, I um, no, I don't think I am a romantic. Not so much. Don't let that deter from what Lavender thinks though, you know." She replied.  
"Right, of course. Thanks again for doing this on such short notice. I just don't know what to get her for our little anniversary and... well I mean I suppose Lavender is more of a romantic than you but she seems to enjoy her holiday presents from you, at least that's what she says and Parvati thought I was a loser for not knowing myself but..." he talked on about his girl troubles as Hermione looked at window displays of Diagon Alley.  
"Seamus, stop talking for a moment. Look." She pointed at a pretty display of flowers coming from a small florist's shop. "I think Lavender would like a nice bouquet of flowers to go along with the date."  
"Oh yes, I bet she would." They stepped inside, and Hermione could hear him muttering, "...wait... go along with..?"  
The shop was larger than it appeared, yet not as big as some muggle shops in London she and her parents had been to; it gave off a cozy sort of feel.  
"Err- Hermione?" She heard Seamus calling from the other aisle she rushed over.  
"What is it?"  
  
"What kind of flowers do Lavender like? Roses are supposed to symbolize love, right? That's what my aunt told me, I think... So, what colors d'you think she'd like?"  
Hermione suppressed a chuckle. People in love were so nervous.  
"Actually, Seamus, roses do not always symbolize love."  
"Oh." He looked disappointed.  
"Well, I mean they can." She said quickly, hoping he wouldn't get discouraged. "You see the white ones right here? They symbolize innocence. And the yellow roses mean friendship. But the red ones... those mean love. That's what my mum told me." Hermione reassured him with advice that sounded matronly enough for her, hoping he'd take the hint.  
"Oh." Said Seamus again. "I guess I'll take the red ones then. Jolly good. Thanks for you help, Hermione."  
  
"You're welcome." Hermione smiled and turned to leave the shop, stealing a quick look at how nervous Seamus still seemed to be and laughed, walking next door to buy some parchment.  
  
A few weeks later  
  
Birthdays gave a strange sensation to Hermione. She didn't particularly care for them, yet longed for a day when people had a reason to be especially nice to her. Not that _her_ birthday came with that kind of merit, but still. She dressed and went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry Potter was there, eating, but their other best friend, Ron Weasley, had not yet arrived.  
"Hello Harry." She plopped down next to him and helped herself to a bit of toast.  
"Hello Hermione. Morning."  
"Morning." An owl flew overhead and dropped a Daily Prophet on her lap. Hermione put five Knuts in a pouch attached to the owl, and it flew off, nipping her a bit, much to her displeasure.  
"Hermione?" Harry was staring at her questionly.  
"Yes?" Hermione opened the paper and engrossed herself in continuing the front page story.  
"You know... Happy Birthday. You're thirteen now. Um, well you know that, but-"  
She looked up for a moment and smiled at him. Harry seemed to sigh in relief, almost as if he had expected her to snap at him instead from the look on her face earlier.  
"Thank you."  
  
By the time dinner was finished, Hermione had received a fair share of Happy Birthdays, and contented herself with settling into an armchair and starting on her homework. She didn't hear footsteps coming over to her armchair.  
"Hermione." A familiar tone woke her up from her Charms trance and Hermione jumped, spilling ink on the carpet.  
"Oh- oh no..." She tried to get up and fix it but another person's hand was on her arm.  
"Don't worry about it." She looked up as Ron grinned. "We just came to give you your birthday presents. Didn't want to distract you from your morning classes, you know."  
Hermione darted her eyes between the boys and nodded.  
"You didn't have to, thank you." She said quickly.  
"Ok then! open mine first." Ron thrust a medium sized box wrapped in dark blue paper into her arms roughly and looked excited.  
"Alright."  
Hermione ripped the paper off cleanly and opened the box. It was a set of red robes, wrapped hastily with pink tissue paper.  
"Ron! This is very nice... oh thank you!" She took the robes out of its box and admired them.  
"I saw you looking at them at Hogsmeade the other day. They're dress robes. You know, they were on sale, otherwise it'd be so much more and- OW!"  
Harry had kicked Ron very swiftly on the shins. Hermione smiled warmly.  
"I still like them very much." She shifted her gaze to Harry. "What've you gotten me, then?"  
He grinned and produced something behind his back. It was bouquet of roses; yellow roses. Hermione took them, wide-eyed, and noticed something sticking out of the center. She gazed quizzically at her friend before reaching down and producing a very glossy, fancy quill that looked positively fluffed. The point at the end was sharpened to a very fine point. Everything about the quill screamed elegance.  
"Oh, Harry... this is a wonderful quill! I've never seen one quite like it, where did you get it?"  
"Diagon Alley. It was too expensive for me to buy but I thought you might like it for your birthday." He cleared his throat. "Erm, it's enchanted, too. You can speak and it records."  
"DOES IT?" Ron started at the quill in amazement and Hermione laughed. Harry rolled his eyes but patted Ron on the back all the same as the two of them sat down next to her. She packed the dress robes carefully into the box, closed it, and they let the ink fly with many words about Snape, Malfoy and the awfulness of potions. For once, Hermione decided not to hold them back, and she granted herself the same favor..  
  
When reaching her dormitory, Hermione replaced the daisies set in the vase next to her bed with the large, yellow roses from Harry. She stared at them, the greeness of the stem and the thorns that were cut expertly and the large petals, all thin and soft. She couldn't help but smile at her friend's choice. Harry did always give her not necessarily better, but more thoughtful presents. To think, the boy who lived would have some inkling of flowers. It was either amazing; or just a coincidence. Either way, Hermione noticed how her insides seemed to be at a sort of peace every time she looked at the flowers, and her lips would curve into a slight smile.  
She changed into her nightclothes and crawled into bed, still staring at the flowers, the color illuminated by the moonlight. It really _was_ thoughtful of him, wasn't it... doing this. He didn't need to, really. Just a wonderful idea to give any girl's heart a little jolt. Yellow roses, the flower of friendship. And perhaps, one day...  
  
_"The white ones right here? They symbolize innocence. And the yellow roses mean friendship. But the red ones... those mean love."_  
  
a/n: Thank you for reading, I haven't written a Harry Potter fanfic in about 3 years, so this is my first step back into the fandom. Hope you all enjoyed, leave me a note if you wish to tell me how I'm doing. Hehe. 


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